


Hot Blooded!

by BlixaLooksCarsick



Category: Megami Tensei, Persona 5, persona - Fandom
Genre: After Ending, Character Story, F/M, Mundane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-12 21:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15348906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlixaLooksCarsick/pseuds/BlixaLooksCarsick
Summary: An important event draws near for Ann's career as a model. Unsure of her own capabilities, she asks friends for advice. In the process, Ann begins to revive a flame in her heart, gone silent after the Phantom Thieves' saga.





	1. Inhale

**Author's Note:**

> Still practicing here. I wanted to try and flesh Ann a bit more on her own before pairing her with Ryuji. Also been listening to Roxette quite a bit lately for thematic relevance, I feel hot bloodedness bonds those two.

A long day it was; it started a few hours too early, and little did Ann know during lunch, was also to end a few hours later than usual. She had eyes set on the date for a while. It was a modelling campaign open to the public; the ads on the subway and magazines dubbed it a “search for new talents”. Months ago, Ann Takamaki would have hardly been interested in the event. There were no passions in her life back then, nothing of true relevance beyond her best friend Shiho. Safe to say, modelling was little more than a leisurely affair that occasionally paid. However, an unforeseen rush of events shook fire into her heart.

The sexual harassment at the hands of a P.E. teacher by the name of Suguru Kamoshida drove her best friend to the brink of despair. Shiho then chose to take her life by jumping from Shujin’s rooftop. Though she survived, the sum of damage done left a wound in Ann’s core, which would not mend on its own. Guilt, a desire for retribution, and the drive to heal Shiho proved an explosive combination under peculiar, otherworldly circumstances. And so, Ann Takamaki became Panther of the Phantom Thieves. 

This awakened persona extended to every facet of her life, fuelled brighter by the support of the friends she made along the way. And soon, modelling became important to her – a career, a path to which she devoted herself, however taxing it sometimes proved to be.

The outlines to the event were as such. Each hopeful candidate was to parade along a stretch of Shibuya as three photographers captured their strides. Two judges, authorities in the world of teenage fashion, would observe their performance. The goal, as expressed on the ads, was “to mingle with the living urbanity of Shibuya, while stealing the sun from its shine.” Ann was not sure what to make of such phrasing, but the prize for the five selected certainly caught her attention. The ones the judges liked best would get to work with Swedish model and writer, Korin Lund, for that year’s DASH summer catalogue. 

This was a golden opportunity. Ann made sure to prepare herself in advance.

For weeks prior, Ann made sure to spend a good fraction of her time attempting to learn from people she thought graceful and stylish. Her friend Akira vouched for someone he knew, a girl called Hifumi Togo, who was once on the way of becoming a Shogi Idol. Although that never took flight, none could deny the young woman’s appeal. After a long conversation through text messages, a date was agreed on for the two to meet. 

“Togo-san!” Ann greeted Hifumi outside of LeBlanc. “Thank you for agreeing to meet up with me!” Well within a second of having bowed towards her new acquaintance, her eyes took in much of Hifumi’s attire. Her sober, conservative style was a diametrical opposite to Ann’s accustomed style, yet she found it appealing nonetheless. 

“It’s a pleasure, Takamaki-san.” Her response, in speech and demeanour, was as measured as her appearance hinted. “So, you’re friend of Akira-kun’s, I understand?”

“Ah, yes. We’re also classmates! Uh… were, you know, while he was here.” Ann was quick to notice her own awkwardness in front of Hifumi. “He told me you’re a teacher to him!”

“Indeed. I was his Shogi instructor, while he was here, yes.” She smiled politely.

“Oh! Was he good?” 

“Not really.” Hifumi indulged in a laugh. “But if whatever I taught him was of any help to you when you were Phantom Thieves, I’ll gladly take pride in my instruction.” Ann was taken aback for a moment upon hearing this. The surprise lasted little, however. If during those days of righteous secrecy, Akira trusted her so, Ann was surely in good hands now. 

“It was, trust me. So, Togo-san. Have you ever been to LeBlanc?”

“Hifumi, please. And no, I haven’t had that pleasure, I’m afraid.”

Ann’s eyes lit up.

“Then I got a treat for you! I hope you like coffee!” 

The two young women walked into the café. The owner, Sojiro Sakura – affectionately known as Boss – knew Ann’s order on the very moment she entered. As for Hifumi, it was always a joy to brew a cup for a first time customer. Ann and Hifumi began their counselling session at noon, and called it a close well after sunset. Despite Ann’s expectations, they hardly talked about modelling at all, but by the time they exchanged contact information, Ann was versed enough to know how to play Shogi.

Regardless, Hifumi’s words on the intended matter stuck with her. “In my opinion, modelling is like a dialogue with somebody who only wants to speak and not listen. They think they know what they want to see in you. Your part of the dialogue is to comply or to convince them to listen to what you have to say. Not everybody appreciates boldness, though.” On hindsight, Hifumi’s wisdom from experience provided little certainty. Perhaps, Ann thought to herself, she needed input from someone else. 

That night, at least, she had the satisfaction of knowing she was already a better Shogi player than Akira. 

The following day, Ann texted her friend Haru – formerly known as Noir - for advice. But rather than meeting at LeBlanc, they had their chat at the latter’s house. It had taken Haru a long while to gather the confidence to treat a friend to a cup of coffee brewed by herself. Her ambition to open a café of her own would still take years to materialise, but these first timid steps still felt like a monumental undertaking. 

Warm and cosy as it was, Ann still felt somewhat overwhelmed by the luxuries of Haru’s place. Everything from the polished marble, the imported furniture, the window frames and the handcrafted candelabra inspired a foreignness that made Ann feel detached from the moment. It was only Haru’s serene company, calmly waiting for her friend to feel at ease, what grounded her attention. In the meantime, Haru occupied herself brewing a cup of black coffee for both. Ann did not fail to notice how the very act of bringing the cups on a literal silver tray looked a gracious gesture on her friend – her gazelle-like pace, the subtle bounce of her hair at the length of her shoulders, all without disturbing the gentle rise of steam from the fine porcelain cups.

Ann was quite convinced Haru could teach her something valuable. But this sudden eagerness was curbed by her friend’s silence. One hand to cradle the plate, another to bring the cup to her lips, Haru only sipped with enough care so as not to burn her tongue on the brew. Ann waited for a few awkward seconds, unsure if she should bring some small talk to the table, or cut to the chase. She opted for the latter.

“S-so, Haru-chan. About that thing, that little favour…” Ann hoped that sufficed to appropriately bring up the topic of needing Haru’s counsel.

“Favour?” Haru asked. Ann knew, from their stint as Phantom Thieves, that the daughter of the late Okumura Foods chairman was a girl of benign heart. Yet despite her good instincts and kind disposition, Haru betrayed no inkling of the violence and ferocity she was truly capable of, as her Noir persona made evident. Sometimes, the tone of her voice was difficult to read. Ann felt it was best to approach carefully.

“Yeah, you know. That little thing I called you about yesterday, about you… um, teaching me to carry myself gracefully and all. Elegantly, I think?” Ann was sure her act to appear composed was fooling nobody.

“Oh, that! I thought you meant that as a joke!” Haru’s voice was filled with amused delight. 

“A… joke?” 

“Yes! Something to say just so we’d get together for some coffee!” Haru’s smile was as a spring-like as her namesake. Ann suddenly felt a little sting of guilt.

“Well, yeah, I wanted that too, of course! That wasn’t a joke, though. I’d really like you to help me…” Ann hesitated, thinking her phrasing was too far from her intention. She then reflected that even that was vague to her. “… look more graceful? It’s for that modelling thing I told you about.”

“I remember, yes. But…” Haru looked confused. “Why would you need counsel from me? If anything, I would come to you for counsel on that myself.” 

Ann felt her cheeks growing slightly warm. 

“That’s… really, really flattering.” Ann smiled. “But I do think you carry yourself better. You look like a lady proper! I wish I could carry myself a bit more like that.”

“Uh, well...” Haru meditated for a second. “You already do, in your own way.”

Ann squinted, then lowered her gaze as a reflex. She did not mean it, but it was too late to mask her disappointment. She felt there was something missing to herself for the pursuit of this profession. 

“If you want, I could try and teach you what I know? If you think it could help you.” Haru was quick to add. 

“Yes, please, Haru.” Ann felt relieved at once.

“I’ll be glad to!” Her friend shone. “But first, coffee!”

The two young women had a chat as they enjoyed the coffee. This brew was vastly different from anything Ann tasted at LeBlanc. It was not a bad cup of coffee, but it lacked something. Haru was well aware of this, but did not let it deter her. Experience would surely lead her down the right path to find that missing link. They then talked about school, also a topic of particular interest for Haru, especially now that she had just started attending college for education on commerce and economics. Haru was slightly daunted, but Ann was quick and doubtless to reassure her. 

Pleasant talk over, something visibly shifted in Haru; a difference like night and day. Sweet, loving Haru slept beneath that lovely face, awake was a side to which the Phantom Thieves had only seen but a glimpse. Ann discovered that day that ‘Governess’ may have been just as suitable a code name as Noir. Haru believed that the basis to how she carried herself lied in the very way she walked. Unfortunately for Ann, this was something to which Haru received strict education at the tender age of six. Her instructor was a woman with a hard shell of a heart. 

The utmost mercy Ann could benefit from was Haru’s learned hardness manifested as warm as oak, quite different to Sadamura-san’s cold steel. Even so, she had Ann walk several metres straight ahead, to and from, with books atop her head for half an hour. Haru held nothing back on observing Ann’s failings, but her reprimands were devoid of cruelty – so at the end of the day, the ache was on Ann’s lower back. 

“Owww!” Ann complained. “Are you seriously telling me you had to do this every day when you were little?”

“Yes!” Haru smiled sweetly.

“For two years!?”

“Yes!”

“God... I think I regret my decision. My back is killing me!”

“Yes! I mean, no! That’s not good.” Haru looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Ann. Maybe I should have thought of something else.”

“It’s okay. Live and learn, right?” Ann was unsure of herself. “Just walking feels weird now. I feel stiff.”

“I can see that, to be honest. I don’t think the instruction I received is to the benefit of all.” Haru looked down. “But I insist you don’t need any pointers from me. You are already graceful!”

“I feel something’s missing, though, like there’s some room for improvement.” Ann let a rueful tone peek in through her voice. “I just… really want to make the top five.”

“I’m confident you will. Maybe you’re just nervous?”

“Maybe…”

Ann hugged her friend goodbye that evening. She lusted for a bag of ice all the way home, but the pain was hardly the only thing in her mind. As the days grew shorter, and the event drew nearer, the gap in her confidence grew wider. Still, could Hifumi and Haru have the right of it? Is it really a matter of mentality over a perceived skill and choice in attire? Is it all really just in her mind?

The following day, she thought she required the input of a third. Makoto was quite elegant herself. Surely she could have something to say on the matter. Her finger hovered about the chat icon on her cell phone. Hesitant, she opened the chat and started typing.

“Hey, Makoto! Hope I’m not interrupting. I have this modelling thing. I could use your advice.” 

She was about to hit ‘send’. She stopped, and thought to herself for a few seconds.

“No. Not about this”. Hifumi and Haru were right, Ann reflected. It would be a waste of time for both to ask for advice on her ways, when the fundamental need was another. Ann was feeling insecure, vulnerable. This was not like her. The fire that once pushed onwards was waning, becoming a pathetic sprite of the glorious flame she once had within. If she lost her coveted spot, there would still likely be another opportunity someplace down the line, so long as she remained diligent. But her current folly was an act of self-sabotage. Defeat would be around the corner if she kept on like this. 

Ann changed her message, opting instead to ask Makoto if she would like to meet for lunch soon. Her friend’s response did not take long. 

“Sure! Where to?”

The following day, they met as planned. They only talked about school and work. Ann managed, in a cheeky manner, to pry some gossip about Akira and Makoto. Seeing the one known as Queen go red as a beet while fumbling with her words got a hearty laugh out of Ann. She missed such a sensation.

The weeks that passed went by, light as air. Ann focused on school and the little modelling gigs she got ahold of. Her thoughts went largely undisturbed by the event until the night before. The bustling streets of Shibuya were ever the noisy affair, but beneath it all, one sound already echoed inside of Ann’s brain: the crackle of the cameras, the imprint of an image on the eye given a voice, but whose would that be? That which the judges wanted to hear, or her own?

In the comfort of her bed, her mind bloomed open like a flower. Ann would choose to be bold, but she needed something beforehand, one word of reassurance from her oldest friend. It was night, on the prelude of the sleeping hours. Ann needed to get up early the next day to make the event. There was no telling if she would be awake, so it was now or never. She dialled the number and pressed the device to her ear, and hoped it was not too late.

“Hello?” She answered. The drowse was in her voice.

“Hi. Shiho?”

“Ann? Hey, how are you?”

“I’m okay. Um, yeah, that sounds about right. Um, did I wake you up?”

“Not really.” Shiho lied. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. This won’t take long at all. It’s just that I got this thing tomorrow, and it’s important to me. It’s something of a competition, and I just needed my best friend to tell me she believes in me.”

“Oh.” Shiho barely managed to stifle a yawn. “Ann, I’ve known you for a long, long time. I know you will succeed at anything you put your heart to. Anything.”

“Shiho…” Ann felt a joy of a tear welling up in her eyes.

“It’s not a painting contest, though, is it?” Shiho asked with a little snark that made Ann laugh.

“No, thank God. Thanks, Shiho. I needed this.”

“I believe in you, Ann. Go and do it.”

“Thank you. Good night.”

“Night.”

Ann took a deep, slow breath. The hours ahead may go mercilessly swift or excruciatingly slow; whichever pace they took, she would be ready to brave the night as the expectations and the fears vanished one by one, turned to ash by the flame inside of her. She closed her eyes, ready for sleep, when a vibration in her phone shook her eyes open.

It was a call from Ryuji.


	2. And Let it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The natural consequence of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a bit of inspiration from personal experience for Ryuji's early bits in this chapter. Also borrowed the Twitter expy Chirper from another Persona 5 fic I read around here, I believe it was Queen of Hearts.

Surreal – only this word could suitably describe the colour the night had taken. Within the awkward silence extending in the middle of the call, a variety of things Ryuji and Ann held as truths were shaken loose. It was too late to retrieve those words, to make them unheard and erase their echo from Ann’s ears. A ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ – hearing either terrified him. Though he badly fumbled with his words, he was aware of their clarity. They were already casting effect, but the response was uncertain still. 

Ann remained quiet, repeating the words in her head. At first, she was baffled that Ryuji actually made a call instead of just texting her, as was his habit. She thought it must have been an emergency; maybe something happened to his mum, maybe something related to the man who fathered him. The tension all but deflated with upon hearing him say words she never thought he would.

“Hey Ann. I want to ask you out, on a date. Can we meet soon?” Ryuji incidentally added a dozen extra syllables by sheer art of stammering. Another several dozen followed, anticipating her refusal, urging her to forget he said anything, cursing himself – but she had long stopped hearing his verbal stream. Only that question was of any real importance. 

“Ah… I’ll get back to you on that. Good night, Ryuji!” She answered absent-mindedly, and immediately hung up in the middle of his response. Suddenly, the event for which she had attempted to prepare, over which she had heaped stressed atop unease, was irrelevant. There were no definite answers in her mind, no word but a hefty, titanic WHY. She sensed the train coming then – the matter of her own feelings about Ryuji, whether she could bring herself to look at him as anything other than a friend. So Ann gripped her pillow and wrapped it around her head in a physical effort to force herself to sleep and think no more. 

Meanwhile, Ryuji panicked. Somehow, a peculiar thought sneaked in the gaps that lay In between thoughts of rejection and humiliation. Ryuji was wondering what Morgana would say about this. He would undoubtedly condemn his vulgar attempts at ‘courting Lady Ann’, but the feline never had only one thing to say. Akira certainly had his back on this. Makoto also supported his intention, but kept her words sober on the matter. Her advice was not too different from Akira’s, though she did emphasise on table etiquette. If Morgana were to give any input, it would probably be something along the lines of “Don’t screw this up.”

Every now and then, the cat wandered about his thoughts. Morgana and he were similar in ways neither would openly admit. Their constant bickering throughout last year could well have been a natural occurrence of two strays quarrelling. If Morgana somehow became human, Ryuji thought, he also would be panicking over the prospect of asking Ann out. And at least where it counted, Ryuji would have his back, monster-cat or otherwise. Eyes still on the ceiling, an hour would pass before Ryuji felt the weight of his eyelids. Ann’s odd reply was well in the distance. A wistful thought framed his expression before he managed to get to sleep.

After all…

“It really was there all along, wasn’t it?” Ann and Ryuji thought, each stranded in their own little patch of land amidst the sea of night.

Ann woke up early enough to make herself ready for the day ahead. She picked an outfit she liked, something comfortable, eye-catching – a simple number she wore often around her friends. Breakfast was lighter than usual; she ate listlessly. And finding she had still much time on her hands, she decided to watch the sun rise from her bedroom’s window. A fiery streak in the outskirts of the horizon began to dye the sky red. A lively splash of orange followed. And at the end, yellow. Yellow, just like Ryuji’s hair. A new day had come, but Ann’s head was still behind in the confines of last night. 

What was she to tell him? Her own feelings were blurry on the matter of him. They got along well after Kamoshida’s abuses reunited them as friends with a cause. They always found something to talk about, and he made her laugh as often as he made her cringe. He obviously found her attractive, and she reckoned he could look presentable, even handsome, if he put any care to his appearance. Maybe going out on a date would not be such a bad idea.

Then again, could she see herself nurtured at his side, and longing on his absence? Did she think herself willing and able to inspire the same things in him? Aside from a fugacious crush she had on Akira several months back, she hardly put a thought into romance. But when compared to Ryuji, the notion lost all inkling of brevity. Ann caught her own reflection in the window and recognised an expression in her face that spelled it out clearly. She cared for Ryuji, and she feared losing him. And then, on the corner of her eye…

“SHIT!” Ann shouted at seeing the red glowing numbers on the clock. Half past seven. “How long have I been standing here like a ditz!?” She reprimanded herself as she hurried to brush her teeth, brush her hair, brush a little makeup on, and leave for Shibuya. One final gaze in the mirror left her uneasy. She felt she looked alright, but her sudden haste may have caused her to be sloppy. After all, the little things are where the magic lies, and photographers know this very well, for good and ill.

Meanwhile, Ryuji started to feel the effects of not sleeping in on a Sunday for the first time in two years. He decided to get up early for once out of a dreadful sensation he could only have described as ‘feeling as if the whole day had passed him by’. Ryuji quickly took care of the dishes that remained from dinner last night. He skipped breakfast, something he seldom did. And driven by an unwillingness to remain indoors any longer, he put on his sneakers and went out for a run. He did not disturb his mother as he went out, but he did leave a note on the table.

Going out. Will be back late.

Whatever happened that day, Ryuji desperately wanted to be outside. He looked at his cell phone as soon as he walked out. There was no reply from Ann. Uncertainty started to dig a hollow in the pit of his stomach, and hunger would soon make him regret leaving his mother’s house so early. Feeling lost in the undecipherable silence, he wanted nothing but momentum, precipitation, the wind on his face; if luck would have it, there would be rain later, just like the weather forecast announced. He fastened his laces and did spent a few minutes stretching and warming his muscles.

He ran – where, he cared not.

Although Ann had a clear sense of destination for the day, she was equally as lost. She usually found a few available seats in the train car on Sundays, but today she had no luck. As she rode the subway for Shibuya, she browsed through her newsletters of choice. Some gossip here and there, hip articles, Chirper and Jugglr. Her eyes were on the screen as her finger scrolled down, but she was not actually reading anything. She recognised the words, but they made no sense to her; she saw LeBlanc featured in a tourism article, but that crossed her head as ephemerally as the likelihood of rain later that afternoon. 

Her comprehension was bound to an incomplete conversation playing over and over in her head. She knew that ‘conversation’ was too generous a word for it, all the same, she dwelled on that brief exchange. After near a dozen repetitions, Ann wished he had texted instead. And yet, nothing truly stopped her from texting him, from breaking the silence with a kinder non-answer, a way to procrastinate ‘yes’ or ‘no’. 

‘Yes’ and ‘no’. Since when did those words turned so dirty to her? ‘No’ was often the hardest, most painful thing to her, but something it was also the kindest and most merciful, a word used to preserve and protect. But what did she think she wanted to protect: Ryuji’s feelings, or perhaps her own? ‘Yes’ on the other hand was ever the riskier; maybe inviting, maybe appealing, but also a possible poisoned chalice. Words of safety and courage both – but of the two, which truly was so? 

Ann lifted her eyes from her phone to look at the next station. She would soon arrive to bustling Shibuya, where sounds and colours reigned high, where people mingled and smells beckoned. No better a setting for an event that could pave her career as a model. Even though she no longer obsessed over it like weeks prior, Ann still focused on its importance to keep her mind steady. Soon enough, the train came to a halt and the doors slid open. The gig would begin in an hour, but Ann’s stride began at that moment when she stepped out of the train car. Her eyes, piercing blue, shot straight ahead, catching only a few things from the corner of her sight: mostly people with very bad posture everywhere.

While one came out into the open air, another took a break from it. Ryuji was quite aware that his leg had not completely healed from Kamoshida’s violent whim almost two years ago. Sometime in January, Makoto convinced her older sister Sae to get him an appointment with her personal physical therapist. Though he appreciated the courtesy, he hardly needed Dr. Hayashida’s input to know a return to the track would be very slow and gradual. Unfortunately, a couple of dire escapes when doing Phantom Thief duty had taken their toll. It was not without reason that his leg would start hurting so badly after a run slightly longer than usual. All the same, he hated it. 

Ryuji sat at the bathhouse, letting the hot water soothe his worn muscles. The modest fragrance of the soap had done away with his sweaty musk. In the peak of his relaxation, a slimy thought knocked him off balance. He would be clean when he stepped out of the bath, but he had not thought of bringing a change of clothes with him. What good was it to wash himself if he had no choice but to step into the same sweaty clothes he walked in with?

He groaned, annoyed at himself. A sour thought came into his head about the advice Akira and Makoto had given him. It sounded very reassuring at the time. Rather than imparting a long, cumbersome list, they each essentially told him to “just be himself… but less loud.” Now, looking at his neglectful disposition, he wondered if being himself was really the way to go about this. Was he right for her? Loud, brash, sweaty Ryuji? Did she neglect to say anything just to keep him from getting hurt? 

“Eff that.” Ryuji said to himself. Live and learn was the way of the adage. Brazen as he was, his intentions were sincere. If she would turn him down, he was strong enough to take it and continue to be Ann’s steadfast friend. Otherwise, they both surely knew he would give his all and his best. A few minutes later, he came out of the bath and put on his crusty running clothes and his sneakers. He knew he had to be patient, and was well prepared for whatever may come, just as he always was. But first, he needed to eat. One place in particular called out to him with a message coded in smells of protein and rich calories. 

As Ryuji made his way through Shibuya, he noticed something different about the usual daily chaos. It was like spotting salmons leaping upstream: three guys in flashy clothes entering and exiting the flow of people in hasty, irritated fashion. Their presence probably had something to do with two cumbersome white trucks parked in the vicinity of the subway station. There were other people, all dressed in white, carrying expensive-looking equipment into the central street, uttering apologies at every second. Ryuji felt some curiosity about it, but his interest was easily trumped by the growl in his stomach. 

The central alleyway was essentially his favourite place in the world. Wherever he turned, there was something to see. He had spent countless afternoons at the arcade before he met Akira. But once his life became graced by dear friends, the places in this street became a purpose of their own. Even if they did nothing but wander around, the time spent was worthwhile, as long as they did so together. This time around, his eyes sought a very specific set of colours and smells: the diner. He seldom came to this place, usually favouring Big Bang Burger or noodles over the choice specialties, but the place called to him for nostalgia’s sake. However, things did not go as he planned. It would have surprised him less to be denied service in basis of his sweat-drenched clothes, but the day had been extraordinarily generous for the diner. All tables were taken, and a queue in wait reached long past the diner’s façade. 

The instance was about the same in Big Bang Burger and every restaurant and food stand in sight. Ryuji was quick to notice this peculiar influx of clientele boasted plenty of girls, many of them around Ann’s age, good-looking and well-dressed for the most part. He was then tempted to inquire whether this had anything to do with the workers and the white trucks, but a greater, more pressing need took priority. He only had to decide where to join the queue. If he got lucky, he may get service at Big Bang Burger in half an hour. So, Ryuji stood at the end of the line while his stomach growled like a ravenous beast. Five seconds later, his foot began tapping impatiently on the ground. This was familiar to him.

Of all the things Ann had dwelled upon, the bothersome registering procedures were not even in her briefest passing thoughts. The heaping stress, accumulated within the frame of ten minutes would probably show on her performance that day, but it was nigh impossible to keep her cool after the bureaucratic hell that had taken over the event’s preliminary stage. She did not only have to write down her name, signature, measurements, date of birth, place of birth, job and school information, as well as similar information on her parents or legal guardian, on seven different forms given by seven different, though similarly irritating, people. She also had to endure an interview with some official who was too fond of making crass, sexual remarks whether the girls pretended to welcome it or not.

The smile on her face was a mask of unwarranted pleasantness. In truth, it betrayed the anger building up inside of her, though the officials in charge were either blind or uncaring to it. Ann looked around her to her many impromptu peers, and few seemed truly at ease with how the situation was shaping up. She had long seen vile abuse unfolding at school, so she had an eye for the moment when a spirit was about to break. A few girls were on the brink of tears, and many others had lost the shine they had when they arrived, going opaque. Ann herself suffered none of these ailments, but the frustration started to manifest into anger and tight, white knuckles. Her turn was nigh.

She was too far in to back out now. But whether she made it into the chosen five, she would make them listen to her. Ann’s fair complexion only barely concealed the increasing flow in her veins. Her senses starting growing numb. The wait was over. She moved to where she was told to, though the officials and judges’ words carried no meaning to her. She saw the starting and finish lines, and nothing else mattered. 

It would be over soon.

Surreal – only this world could suitably describe the state of Ann’s world, coated in fire that could never burn her. She knew the rules, but grew to care little for them. She put on her earphones, and pressed ‘play’ on her cell phone’s music app. Technically, this could be construed as an aid against the ruling, but nobody said word or lifted a finger to stop her. Ann began her stride without thinking. The tempest in her mind from weeks prior had decreased to a soundless breeze and the stress that paralysed her limbs was absent entirely. Her movements were resolute and filled with purpose. Rather than mingling with the urban atmosphere of Shibuya, as per the contest’s premise, Ann effectively blazed for all to see. By the appearance of her march, it hardly seemed as if she would turn around back to judges. 

By all means, Ann would have disqualified herself by now. The way she spontaneously presented herself was the antithesis of the frame she had prepared herself for. She would reflect on this a few days later, but the impression that would longer remain in her thoughts was something else entirely. In the subway, at the sides of the improvised catwalk traced on the floor by chalk, in her past distant and recent, she saw him – a boy with bad posture and brash disposition, a young man with a heart beating at her pace. He dared. He asked her out and she said nothing. But the answer was clear to her an instant later, as she saw Ryuji squeeze his way into the front row of spectators. The expression she caught him with was a trance of awe; but in the fiery second before he caught sight of her, he looked furious – just like she was.

Her blue eyes regained their cool upon meeting his. She walked up to him, not knowing what words to choose, and instead, the moment got a hearty laugh out of her.

“Ryuji! What are you doing here?” Ann asked him.

“I was, I was, what? I was hungry.” Ryuji stumbled over his words, still taken aback.

“I see! Well... ew, why do you look so crusty?” 

“I went for a run, okay!?” 

“And then you were hungry…”

“Yes, no, I mean, it’s been a long day!”

“You’re telling me.” Ann could barely hear her own voice, how loud and relieved it was. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” His usual wild confidence returned to his voice. Perhaps inspired by what he saw in Ann at that moment, or possessed by his own instinct, he held Ann’s hand as they made their way past the gathered people, all watching agape as the fiery ones left the scene.

Later than evening, another candidate managed to get ahold of Ann. Her voice on the phone revealed the judges’ decision to name her one of the five winners. The young woman told Ann about the storm she had brewed amongst judges, officials, participants and spectators. However, in the midst of the chaos, nobody could bring up the appropriate information from their heaps of paper, so she decided to go the extra mile herself and look up Ann Takamaki’s number from the registered names. Tedious and lengthy as the task had been, she felt it was only considerate to let Ann know that the judges decided to also include her among the winners. She quoted that Ann had not been what they were looking for when first putting the event together, but she was one too bright to pass on. 

Ann, now calmer than before, thanked the caller for the message, but excused herself from the call, as she was busy at the moment. She would obviously need to get in touch with the event’s organising parties to follow up on this turn of events, but the present moment brooked no distraction. Pulses had again become quicker. The blood rose to their faces and words lost all meaning. This was the first date between Ann and Ryuji: spontaneous, awkward and crusty. As time went by, they would have many more with the same qualities, occasionally featuring a series of failed attempts to catch a dolphin in the crane game at the arcade.

Neither was good at it, whether a dozen or a thousand tries between the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next work will be something of a prologue to a post-game Phantom Thieves story. Who knows if we're getting re-release with new material; nothing stops us from letting our imaginations run amok.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can probably tell, I'm going from one character to another. I do intend on writing a couple more of character-centred stories, but I also plan on writing something along the lines of a return of the Phantom Thieves. Expect a prologue after Hot Blooded - Part 2.


End file.
